


When it rains really hard, I can almost drown out the punches...

by FanFiction_Artist_Prototype



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Can be seen as romantic or platonic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt, Memories, Post-Canon, depends how you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 14:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17830319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFiction_Artist_Prototype/pseuds/FanFiction_Artist_Prototype
Summary: “When it rains really hard, I can almost drown out the punches...”Akira’s words, dry and apathetic hurt Ryuji more than he likes to admit. Because he’d agreed to the plan. He’d been one of the people telling Akira to go for it and where had that got him?But that’s in the past, he can’t focus on that anymore, that’s why he’s here after all. To pull Akira out of the past.It’s always the same, has been for years now and he suspects it will for a long time to come but that doesn’t matter.(Also known as, Ryuji stresses about helping his friend and realises being a best friend really helps in these situations)





	When it rains really hard, I can almost drown out the punches...

“When it rains really hard, I can almost drown out the punches...”

Akira’s words, dry and apathetic hurt Ryuji more than he likes to admit. Because he’d agreed to the plan. He’d been one of the people telling Akira to go for it and where had that got him? But that’s in the past, he can’t focus on that anymore, that’s why he’s here after all. To pull Akira out of the past.

He hates that those are the last coherent words Akira had said to him before everything went wrong.

It’s always the same, has been for years now and he suspects it will for a long time to come but that doesn’t matter.

All that matters is Akira, and Akira is so small curled up in the corner of his room head buried in his knees.

It’s scary, because sometimes Ryuji forgets that there was a seperation between Akira and Joker because at times the line blurred and he always hates that he forgets because he always just assumes that Akira can handle things because Joker could.

It really is scary because all those times spent in mementos hit after hit being hurled at their psyche’s Akira- no Joker never showed any signs and outside of the populations cognition neither did Akira. But the signs were always there they’d all just realised a little too late.

It’s been five years since the phantom thieves disbanded but you wouldn’t know it. They meet up nearly every two days and no matter what they always get together at Leblanc to just relive their teenage years. Back to when they were the teens fighting the shitty adults they’re still fighting and reminding themselves never to become. But he knows, around this time every year, Akira’s mind forgets.

He isn’t in the attic at Leblanc (because Sojiro really cared even if he didn’t show it and jumped at the chance to take Akira in again) on his bed playing video games, he’s in Niijima Sae’s palace and he’s being beaten and drugged and he’s having to reiterate to himself that it’s all for the greater good.

He knows this fact intimately. Not because Akira has sat down and explained it to him, no Akira is too much of an altruist to ever consider telling people his problems, but because as he’s sat in front of his best friend, a meter and a half away at most, and he can make out the mumbling.

 _“I’m sorry..._ ”

” _I don’t know anything..._ ”

“ _Please! I already told you- no please stop it hurts!_ ”

He feels like something’s being jammed through his heart repeatedly because their Akira never let himself sound so broken.

Their Akira was the twenty two year old currently working under a member of the national diet and known publicaly as his more than likely successor, their Akira was the one who despite that worked four other jobs and still made room for university. Their Akira was the one that sat them down and helped them when they were crying - nightmares fouled by mementos and all the crappy experiences they went though as phantom thieves.

It was only right to return the favour. 

But the difference here is, their Akira isn’t here. Well, he is, but he’s not lucid. Their Akira is trapped in his own head trying to tell himself its a memory but being unable to.

Slowly, tentatively, he reaches out and lets his fingers rest on the edge of Akira’s shoe. It’s barley even a touch but the unexpected weight jolts the other boy, his prey eyes looking up - scared. Before Ryuji is making those stupid shushing noises they make in the movies and leaning forward a bit on his knees to take the man’s hand letting the feeling of skin to skin contact burn itself into Akira, this feeling, this weight is safe.

He rubs his thumb over the back of his hands when he sees his eyes flicker away from him. They’re still glazed and unfocused but they’re not digging into him like they’re just waiting for him to hit him.

They sit like that for awhile, Ryuji kneeling partially over his best friend, rubbing soothing circles into his hands as he cries and the rain outside serves as a reminder to that awful day.

By the time Akira shifts a bit more, sobs dying down and hands releasing his own, arms opening timidly, Ryuji is already mentally debating over how many cups of tea and hot water bottles are going to soothe his knees.

He doesn’t let himself get distracted by such trivial things though as he slowly and methodically opens up Akira’s twitchy, stiff arms little by little until he can fit inside them, by this time Akira’s more a ball than anything so he’s moving to sit beside him as he envelopes him in a hug.

Its one of those rare lucid moments he gets when it’s really bad and Akira mumbles apologise into his shoulder as begins to cry again. He simply tells him not to worry. He doesn’t have anything to be sorry for. Nothing at all.

He didn’t do anything wrong, he’s so brave, he’s being so amazing because anybody else wouldn’t be able to cope with this. The words slide past his lips without much hesitation. Akira needs it.

He squeezes Akira closer to his side, leaning his head on the black haired boys when he jolts from a particularly harsh memory and tries his damndest not to hiss because of what can only be a freshly forming bruise where his best friends bony elbow hit him.

He listens to the rain, heavy on old tired windows and looks around. The rooms the same as it’s always been and as he sits there, holding the boy who made his life bright again he can’t help but kick himself.

They'd really been stupid to not see the signs. But that doesn’t matter now. They were all going to make it up. Even if it meant sitting in a freezing cold attic acting as a shock blanket to his best friend.


End file.
